


So-Called Misfits

by WeaverOfWorlds



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: And I'm still kinda dodgy at dialogue, Anyway I wrote this late at night yesterday, F/F, I know they aren't in it, but I couldn't get that tag otherwise, look - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 11:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16428485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeaverOfWorlds/pseuds/WeaverOfWorlds
Summary: The funny thing about misfits is that, oftentimes, they just haven't found quite where they belong yet.





	So-Called Misfits

**Author's Note:**

> Aka I see people asking for this cute pairing and spend an hour or two around midnight last night writing this little piece of fluff

Ali didn’t have anyone rooming with her in the Hurflpurf dormitory. She didn’t mind, though; less people meant more places to hide her booze from the prefects, and more bedframes to make into her own miniature gardens. Lying there in the dark, captured and tamed fireflies dancing about, she ran her cold fingers over the wounds she’d rebutted received that day, casting druidcraft and causing tiny vines to stitch closed the larger bite marks from that godsdamn spider. The stinging made her smile grimly, reminding her of the burn of Hearthwisky from the Dog’s Head, a pain that reminded her she was alive. Her limbs were covered in the green trails of stitched gashes, each a souvenir of her illicit trips into the dark forest to tend to some of her more dangerous plants, the trees being forbidden ground for students for a reason. These scars, though, meant something very different; she’d never worked with anyone before, let alone worked well. She’d already drank enough to have forgotten a lot of the specifics, but the little jaunt she’d been on had been almost….. fun.

A sudden, rather timid, knock on her door broke her out of her thoughts. Looking up from the rather ugly looking bite on her left calf, she saw her door open a crack, the warm light from the common room spilling in and with it a face she really hadn’t expected.

“Hiiii.”

The mask of conceit gone, Ali saw the almost unrecognisably shy face of Claire, that Girfendor from earlier. The scars from the battles of that day still somewhat visible on her usually flawless face.

“O-oh! You are here. Just as I thought.” Claire quipped, tossing her blodger-red locks confidently. Yep, there was that mask again. “I’ve been looking for you all day.”

Ali shrunk into herself, pulling her scarf up around her face, her quiet voice barely filtering through the thick wool. “What are you doing here Claire? How did you even get in?”

Without asking, Claire strode in, closing the door behind her with an unexpectedly gentle touch. “I’m me silly, I can get anywhere I want.”

“Did Andy tell you how to get in? I know he knows how.” She thought for a moment before peeking out with a sly smirk, “or was it your dear ward? He knows every inch of this school, even more than those Stoatly twins did.”

Even in the dim light of the fireflies and the moon through the window, Ali could see Claire’s face turn the same shade of red as her hair. “It’s not like that! I don’t even like him!”

“Mhm? Really?” Ali raised an eyebrow behind her long fringe, “are you sure about that?”

“Hmph!” Claire scoffed, “of bloody course I’m sure, I don’t even like boys, they’re abhorrent.”

Claire suddenly clapped her hands over her mouth, the deep red blush blanching to a rather unhealthy pale in shock and shame. “I-I mean… Y-you heard nothing.”

Ali lowered her scarf, tilting her head in a mix of mild amusement and confusion. “Claire? Is… is that why you’re here? I mean I can’t imagine why else you’d go to the trouble of hiking your way all the way down from Girfendor Tower to my dorm rather than just seeing me in Botanolgy tomorrow morning, especially since we don’t have any homework this time.”

“H-how dare you. I-I’m leaving.” Claire turned on her heel to leave, but Ali spoke up,

“C'mon, you and I both know you’ve got more quips than that up those perfect sleeves of yours. Even if I am right, you could at least do me the decency of insulting me and telling me I’m beneath you or something.”

Claire turned slowly, an eyebrow raised curiously, “You sure the Sorting Matt put you in the right house? Bc that there is some Slitherpin-arse mind games.”

The young botanologist laughed, “we’re Misfits, remember, there’s nowhere we really fit.”

Claire shrugged, “you’re not wrong. Always thought the concept of sorting was a bit dodgy anyway; even normal people can’t be put in one box. Though according to mother the Matt places you based on your personal values rather than the traits you display. Might explain why you’re here.”

“That makes sense. That Brian creep seemed kinda Slitherpin too, but outside the shit we did today, he seems to put a lot of importance in learning about as much as he can.”

Claire shuddered, giving a joking grimace, “I bet he’s secretly planning to overthrow the headmistress, and then who knows what he’ll do.”

Ali looked the other girl over, now she could see her fully, the gashes in her uniform were very blatant. “Shit, have you even  _tried_ to fix that?” She sighed, “come here I’ll get it.”

Hesitantly, Claire shuffled to the edge of Ali’s four-poster, ducking under the vines of various flowers that the girl had grown in place of the provided curtains. “I, uh, love what you’ve done with the place, it’s so much prettier than my dorm. Mani would have my guts for garters if I tried this.”

Ali smiled softly as she began moving her hands over Claire’s torn clothes, “Thanks. Honestly I think that’s the main reason no one wants to room with me; they tried it first year but quickly found out I tend to grow things when I’m anxious and couldn’t put up with it.” Just as she’d done for her wounds, Ali began conjuring small vines to close the tears in the fabric. “Today was kinda fun, if I’m being honest. Seeing the boys in over their heads brings me a special kind of joy.”

Claire laughed, more openly than she could ever recall laughing in long while. “I’ll drink to that! I mean, I would. If-if I drank.”

“Is that a request? 'cause I’ve got plenty if it is.”

“Is that an offer?”

Ali could hear the smirk in Claire’s voice, the tips of her ears turning red, and small roses blooming from the vines she was weaving into the others jumper. “M-maybe.”

“You got any Nutterbeer? Or are you more a fan of the stronger stuff?”

Finishing patching the last gash, Ali flicked her wand towards the wardrobe next to the window, muttering under her breath.

As Claire watched, a roughly cat-sized badger appeared from thin air and scampered over to the wardrobe, disappearing into it for a moment before clambering up onto the bed with a half empty bottle of Hearthwisky in its mouth. She watched, entranced, as Ali took it gently, and it climbed back down, soon returning with a bottle of Nutterbeer, which Ali, too, accepted, before giving it a scratch under the chin and booping it’s snout, causing it to vanish in a small shower of golden leaves, which then dissolved into nothing.

Reaching up to the canopy of her bed, Ali pull out a very roughly hewn, but still rather charming Claire thought, wooden tankard, wiping it clean on her scarf. “Sorry, I only have one. Didn’t exactly expect company. Not that I’m complaining.” That last part just slipped out, but for some reason, she didn’t mind.

Claire shrugged, “that’s fine, I’ll drink from the bottle. I’ve seen other students do that and it looks like fun.”

Ali popped the cap of the Nutterbeer and handed the bottle to Claire and stowing the tankard back in the vines above. Opening her own bottle, she raised it in a toast, her face alight with happiness. “To us! And the discomfort of the boys!”

It took a moment for Claire to register the toast. In that instant, in this dimly lit room, air filled with fireflies, she was utterly lost in Ali’s smile. The way the silvery moonlight sparkled in the dark and stormy grey of her eyes, the adorable way they pinched almost closed from just how wide and genuine the smile was. Ali almost seemed to emit her own light, a beautiful glow that made the flowers that hung from the bedframe bloom a little wider. She raised her bottle, a warm, smitten smile softening her features. “To us…”


End file.
